


Where's your Santa Fe now?

by SincerelyGay



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Abuse, Friendship, kind of sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-26
Updated: 2014-08-26
Packaged: 2018-02-14 21:15:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2203353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SincerelyGay/pseuds/SincerelyGay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An anon on tumblr asked me for the prompt "Jack visits Crutchie at the refuge" and well, here's my take. Told from Crutchie's point of view.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where's your Santa Fe now?

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for abuse

"Crutch?" The voice, quiet as it was, rang through the small room. I looked around at everyone else, fast asleep, "Crutchie, you there?" The voice came again. I recognized it as Jack's, and went to rush to the window, only to fall a few steps later.

"Jack," I whispered back, cringing at how rough my voice sounded. I crawled my way towards the window, using the ledge to hoist myself up, "Jack, What're ya doin' here?"

"Jesus, Crutch," he breathed, "what happened to your face?"

I touched my fingertips to the bruise on my eye. It matched the ones on my jaw and forehead, plus my split lip. I just thanked god he couldn't anything but my face, because my bruises didn't stop there. I just shrugged, never meeting his eyes, "Oscar and Morris roughed me up a little. Nothin' too bad."

"That's right, yeah? Then how comes you could barely make it over here," Jack asked, gesturing to where I was just crawling, "and how come your voice is so scratchy."

"I'm fine, Jack," I assured him. I shifted my position so I was resting most of my weight on my crutch and winced as I hit one of the bruises on my ribs.

He rolled his eyes, "like hell you are. C'mon, I'm gettin' you's outta here."

"No!" I nearly shouted. I heard a couple of the guys inside groan and roll over and waited til all was quiet again to speak, "I mean," I sighed, "I'm not walkin' so great, okay?"

Jack smiled, "don't worry 'bout that, Crutch," he said, "I'll carry you out."

"No, you ain't carryin' me. Nobody's carryin' me, alright?"

"Crutchie-"

"No," I snapped. I guess I was talking a little too loudly, because at that moment, the door swung open, "get outta here!" I whispered before trying to make it back over to my bed. As I heard three sets of footprints grow nearer, I just sat down by the closest bed, hoping to blend in with the hoard of boys who already slept on the floor. 

I knew my plan had failed, though, when I felt hands grab both of my arms, making me wince, and pull me up, dragging me out of the bedroom.  
\----------  
I laid there once they had finished beating me, unmoving. I couldn't get up. It hurt to even reach out and grab my crutch. I knew I that there were tears streaming down my face still, but I'd stopped crying a few minutes ago.

My voice dry from screaming, I said, "one for all and all for one. Where's your Santa Fe now Jack?" Before just giving in and falling asleep on the floor.


End file.
